


Living Shadow, Beating Heart

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dark Knight Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Living Shadow (Final Fantasy XIV), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: Zenos takes an interest in the sword the Warrior of Light carries.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV Gift Exchange (2019)





	Living Shadow, Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indefensibleselfindulgence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/gifts).



> Happy exchange reveal!

The Warrior of Light's sword had caught Zenos' attention the second he had laid eyes on it, back in Rhalgr's Reach. It was sizeable, larger and more massive than the katana Zenos favoured, though the Warrior of Light was of far more diminutive stature than himself. Nothing of the sort was common in Ilsabard and the various places he had been stationed in over the course of his life.

He had researched this blade and the school that wielded it as soon as he had returned from the Reach. Even as his greaves crunched in the gravelly desert ground on the way, his thoughts had circled around what, precisely, this sword was and how it was used. Unfortunately, there was little information to be found. He had expected the royal Ala Mhigan library to have something of use, but alas, it had not; merely some references to outlaw knights in Ishgard or some such, hardly anything of value.

Oh, how he had paced in his rooms, his thoughts consumed by this blade and what the Warrior of Light—insignificant, weak, but still somehow intriguing—had done with it. How he had wished to see it once more, to ascertain how the Warrior of Light used it. Each arcing swing, each downward slice, he replayed them in his mind over and over.

Until fate brought the two of them together once more. Certainly, the Warrior of Light proved to be something of a disappointment after how much they had occupied his thoughts, but it gave him an opportunity to study their bladework once more, and his interest only grew. There was something about that sword… He had been planning on disposing of the Warrior and claiming the blade for himself, but his helmet breaking had dissuaded him. 

Much as he wanted to run his fingers across that edge and watch the blood trickle down towards his palm, he could wait. If there was even a smidgen of hope that the Warrior of Light could be the one he had sought for all his life, then no blade was worth killing them for. 

And so he let the Warrior of Light live once more, that their paths may cross again, and that they could, at last, prove themselves worthy. 

The delay was pure agony. He was not, as a general rule, inclined to wait for anything he might want. He had ever had underlings to procure whatever it was he wanted, and they were quick to obey, as they knew better than anyone else what they would face if they failed him. This, however, they could not do, and while Zenos himself could certainly seek his prey out, what was the point? If the Warrior of Light wasn't ready yet, he would only spoil his own sport… 

And so he waited.

Dimly, he was aware that the Alliance drew ever closer to Ala Mhigo, and that his father would expect him to put a stop to it, but who could care about that when there were more important matters to think about? Such useless distractions. Ala Mhigo didn't matter. Garlemald didn't matter. Not when his fulfillment was near.

When one of his useless subordinates brought him the news that the Alliance had taken over Castrum Abania, Zenos casually flicked a wrist, sliced him open and smiled. 

Soon. So soon…

Zenos stayed in his throne room while the fighting commenced outside of the palace. Nothing was further from his mind than slaughtering weak and pathetic Alliance troops. Nay, he had something far more important to do, and here they would be undisturbed while the battle raged outside. 

His every nerve was ablaze with anticipation. Never had he felt like that. If their contest lived up to this experience, it would shatter aught that Zenos had ever considered to be possible. 

And then the door was flung open, and in stalked the Warrior of Light, diminutive as they were, sword held high. Yes… yes. This was good. This was _right._

“Like a moth to the flame...“ he muttered as he rose from the throne he had never wanted and drew his own katana. “But how could you not? You and I, we both know this must happen.“ 

“Then stop talking and get on with it.“ The Warrior's voice was gruff, curt. 

And so Zenos did. After all, what use were words now? They weren't needed for this. They would only distract from what was truly important.

He charged at the Warrior, who sidestepped him with ease. They had grown faster since they had last fought him. Zenos felt his heart beat faster; they had become stronger, they really had!

But instead of striking back, they withdrew to a safer distance. Zenos frowned when they raised a hand up to their chest, seemingly scratching at their breastplate and then pulling something _out_. Something like a small black sphere, vibrating softly, gleaming as if covered in oil—

—and then it expanded rapidly and took on the shape of a person; a shade clad in armor, wielding the same kind of blade the Warrior of Light did.

The shade brandished its own blade as if to challenge him, though it never spoke before both it and the Warrior charged at Zenos anew. 

And just like that, Zenos found himself within a flurry of dark blades aiming at his jugular. The shade and the Warrior were of one mind, plainly; they moved in unison, each trying to exploit the opening the other created in his defenses, every strike perfectly in sync with the other's. 

The tip of a sword wreathed in shadows nicked his cheek and cut off a stray lock of hair. Zenos found himself laughing and laughing as the blaze in his chest grew ever brighter and hotter. _This_ was what he had wanted—nay, _more_ than he had ever wanted! _This_ was what he had _needed!_

“More!“ he yelled as he blocked the Warrior's blade and then twisted to dodge the other one. “I want more!“

“I can only do this once, doofus,“ the Warrior retorted. “Enjoy it while it lasts.“

“Let this moment last forever, then!“

Neither his beast nor his shadow responded. Just as well. Words were unnecessary between them.

Zenos' heart sang in unison with the sharp whistling of blades cutting through air and occasionally body parts. Such bliss, such heavenly sensations—the blood trickling down his cheek, the clanging when blade connected with armor, the strain on his muscles that he had never felt before as he kept up with not one, but _two_ worthy foes—

And then he stumbled, from exhaustion, from being pushed off balance by another fierce blow by that fascinating blade, he didn't know; _he_ , Zenos yae Galvus, _stumbled_. 

In that moment, as he struggled to regain his balance, he knew, truly knew, what it was like to love another person. 

He laughed as he withdrew from the battle, and mirth filled his voice as he invited the beloved beast and their shadow to follow him, for there was more to come.

Oh, _so_ much more.

And he would savour every last second of it.


End file.
